


The Guardian's Gift

by Anonymous



Category: Rain (Cocoa Moss Browser Game)
Genre: Family, Gen, Mythical Beings & Creatures, POV Outsider, Seasonal Spirits and Guardians, Triple Drabble
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-30
Updated: 2019-06-30
Packaged: 2020-05-12 10:29:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19227334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: You mustn’t look outside when it rains. You should draw the curtains and leave the guardian to her work.





	The Guardian's Gift

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Elleth](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elleth/gifts).



> Thank you for helping me to discover this charming browser game. It's so calming and I'll revisit it whenever I need a short break from the world. I hope you enjoy my take on it. 
> 
> Here's a link for anyone who needs it:  
> https://cocoamoss.com/rain/rain.html

Lightning glinted from the table’s porcelain. Father dabbed his mouth, stood, and pulled the curtains.

“Why do we close the curtains when it rains?” Leila asked, so curious at her age.

All eyes turned to her, then to each other.

“To leave the guardian to her work,” mother answered. “She protects us from storms.”

“Yes,” agreed grandpa sagely. “Haven’t you wondered why lightning doesn’t strike us up here in the clouds, why water doesn’t drip through our rafters?”

Leila peered up at the ceiling. Like the rest of their home, it was cobbled together with old signs and iron sheeting salvaged from the ruins below the floating isles.

“Why can’t we see her?”

“We must trust her to protect us,” father offered. “Sometimes, if you listen carefully, you can hear her passing by.”

Everyone paused their eating. Leila held her breath, stared at the thin curtains.

Silence...

Rainfall. 

“You’re scaring her,” grandma chided. “The guardian is said to take the form of a little girl, like you, Leila. The rain wakens her from her slumber. Houses she passes are then safe from the storms.”

“Have you seen her?”

“She doesn’t wish to be seen. But we know when she’s visited.”

“How?”

“She revives the lanterns,” grandpa said.

Auntie leaned over her bowl. “When the washing lines sway, it isn’t the wind. It’s her tiny feet stepping from house to house.”

“Don’t forget the cats,” father said.

The table came alive with discussion, the patter of rain constant amongst their theories.

After dinner, the rain stopped. Leila asked if she could give the guardian a gift. While her family watched through the window, she tiptoed between puddles, her umbrella in her hand. Wind snatched it and sent it hurtling into a tree.

“Don’t worry,” grandma soothed. “The guardian will find it.”


End file.
